Eυƚԋαɳαʂια
by DragonoftheStars1429
Summary: She was injured on a Thunderpath, and rescued by the ones who would kill her. She was wiped of her memories in that accident. She was able to escape, to help found a Clan far away from danger. She was born to rise, to protect her future Clan. She was born to be great. She was born to build a legacy that will never be forgotten. But the perils are great, and her life is at risk...
1. Prologue

**Why, hello everyone! I've had this idea for a while, and I've decided to go through with it! **

_**But Dragon, what about Legacies? Or Never His? Those voted the most, 'something else' had no votes!**_

**Yeah, umm... as much as I'd love to work on those, I haven't been feeling very inspired to work on those. I'll try to start Legacies another time, but I had this idea and I thought it'd be cool to follow through with! **

**Okay, so onto the story! Enjoy!**

. . .

The she-cat was going to die.

There wasn't a _was she? _or a _couldn't she try to live a few days?_ from anyone. True, there was that one human who wanted her to live. But it was no use. They rolled their eyes, and stated that she would be dead.

Earlier that morning, that kitten was just a regular one. Running around by the roadside with her littermates, chasing butterflies. But those days had passed. They would never come again. Ever. Although she didn't know what had happened to her, she knew that she would that her life would never be the same again.

She remembered, vaguely, laughing and playing with others. Three others. She couldn't quite find the words to describe them, but she remembered all of them. She remembered a _whoosh_ing sound, the black that followed. She remembered a human cradling her in their arms. The warmth felt good. She remembered, a few moments ago, waking up in this snaring, wire contraption. She remembered looking behind her, at her gnarled leg and stumpy tail. She remembered searching for nourishment, and only finding a small amount of water- if it could be called that- with bits of dirt in it, floating around; the only other nourishment was a small amount of a mushy object that looked like a cat's dirt and smelt of decaying fish. She remembered trying to settle in her 'bed', only to discover that it was hard and uncomfortable.

But she remembered nothing else.

As she gazed around her, she saw others in the same situation as her. Contraptions (she later learned they were called _cages_) that were a yellowish color instead of white like they should be, scraps of paper and fabric for beds. The food looked like the owners of this place had saved waste from them, or _taken _the food from the waste buckets, essentially feeding them slop. One tomcat, who was brown with gray spots, was the only one who was eating the food. Two others were chatting- light brown she-cat with white dapples and hazel eyes introduced herself as _Aspen _to a tan tom who introduced himself as _Whiskers_. Light brown said she had _been here for four months but had been out and almost adopted_, and Tan replied by saying that he was _the cat of a poor person who had to give him up_. They kept on blabbering strange words, like those of before. Like _adopted_. The she-cat had no idea what that meant, but she knew she wouldn't find out. After all, she would be gone by sundown.

Suddenly, the cat in the cage to the left of her gave a stiffing yawn and woke up. It was a kit, although much bigger than her in size, she could tell that they were similar in age. He was black, black with bushy fur. He had white specks, and misty, grayish-blue eyes. His ears were quite large, too.

"Hello," he said, excitedly. "Who are you? What's your name? Mine's Caspar!" He bounced around in his cage.

She stared at him, confusedly. What was he talking about? Forcing herself to choke words out, she responded, "I- I don't t- think that- that I have a- a-"

The tom blinked at her in a friendly sort of way. "You don't? Well, you should have one. Hmm... what, though?"

Name? What was that? She didn't remember ever encountering this... _name_. And _what_ was the tomcat doing? With this _name_? "I- I don't know- this _name_."

He laughed. "A name? It's what others identify you with. Usually it's given to you by your parents, but... since your parents didn't give you one, apparently, we'll think of one together! Hmm..."

She frowned as he drifted off in thought. _But I don't _need_ anything for others to _identify me_ with. Can't I just be me? And... parents? What's _that_? _Another thing she would have to ask the tomcat. She opened her mouth to speak again, but he spoke before she had the chance to.

"I know! You remind me of the cat who used to live in this cage. She was very old, and sick, but she looked like you. Her name was Needle. How about that, huh?" he questioned.

_Needle?_ "It's-"

"Perfect! I'm glad you like it!" The tomcat was practically bouncing with excitement. _How, though? This place is a torture device. _"As I said before, the name's Caspar. Whenever you want to talk to me, just say something like 'Hi, Caspar' or 'Caspar, how are you today?' and I'll know you're talking to me. And if I say something like 'Hello there, Needle', you'll know I'm talking to you. Okay?"

She nodded, although she didn't want this _name_. She also didn't know what much to talk about with the tomkitten, because there wouldn't be much to talk about. Besides, she would be gone after today.

He yawned. "Well, I'm tired again! But I'll look forward to talking with you other days!"

_But there won't _be_ any other days. Any other days at all. _And then she fell asleep as well.

. . .

When the she-kit woke up, she was in a clean, white room. A human was above her, stroking her. The human left to the other side of the room, and started filling a container with a pinky liquid. Then, the human returned, stroking her once again. _This is my death, _the she-kit realized. She struggled and squirmed, all the while being stroked by the human, who was making strange noises. It was a few seconds before she observed that she was held down on the bed. That she couldn't escape.

The room was white and clean. So was the place she was held in. White and clean and soft. All around the room, there were ledges. Bottles, all containing the same liquid. The liquid, she realized, that had killed so many cats. The liquid, she realized, that the _Aspen_ from the cage-room nearly was given. The liquid, she realized, that would kill her. She was about to die. Be _euthanized_.

And she hated it.

The human took the container, added a sharp, pointy part onto the end. And as she brought it closer to the kitten, time seemed to slow down for her.

And the kitten felt it as that object tickled her skin, about to puncture it and end her life...

. . .

**And that sums up the prologue! A fave/follow/review would be greatly appreciated, so thanks if you do! (They actually motivate me to write more, knowing that people like my story.) **

**This is about shelter cats, who break out of the shelter after hearing about the Clans. As you can tell from the chapter, they're treated awfully. And *SPOILER ALERT* some of the characters you've met in this chapter will play major roles in the future. I might update this chapter, rewrite some things- I feel like I could've added more detail in but I'm not up for it rn. **

**I'll try to update regularly. I don't set myself update schedules, but I suppose... every other weekend? That'll give me enough time, hopefully. And since I have break rn, I'm probably going to update more frequently than you'll expect usually. Just so you're prepared :D. **

**Anyways, bye now! Signing off!**

**~Dragon**


	2. The Kindling to the Fire

**I have the chapter for you guys today! I know it's a week late. Sorry. :( Thanks to everyone who followed and favorited this story so far! Also, a disclaimer: I do not own Warriors. I am not Erin Hunter. Also, I do not know anything about the old SkyClan. I took creative liberties for the sake of the plot. **

** Feathershade: Euthanasia is the killing of these animals involuntarily. It's what happens to these shelter animals.**

** PoppyRitz: Yes, it's an injection that these cats are getting to be killed. I'm glad you like the story so far!**

* * *

The smoky gray tabby awoke with a jolt, her golden eyes now wide open. _Breathe, _she told herself, _just breathe. _In, out. In, out. Her breaths steadied her, yet she still felt the adrenaline pumping through her veins. She forced herself to be calm. _Come on. You're being silly, Needle. It was just a dream. Just a dream. _Quietly—she was one of the first to wake up, and didn't want to disturb others—she moved from her bed-corner to her small, scruffy litter area. When she was over there, she noticed that Pine (the prickly brown tabby who usually resided in the cage next to her) was missing. Instead, a stranger was sleeping there. Pine was a brown tabby; this cat was a calico. Her fur was still beautiful and soft, whereas Pine was one of the oldest shelter cats, his fur ragged and spiked up. However, this one was sleeping, her flank gently rising and falling. For some reason, something about her reminded Needle of a mother—kind and gentle, and caring. She could tell that—

A loud mewl from the cage on the other side of her shook her out of her thoughts, distracting her from this newcomer. She rolled her eyes. _Caspar._ "Hey there, Needle!"

"Caspar, come on! Some cats still want to sleep," the smoky gray tabby responded.

The black tom rolled his eyes. "Oh, _please_, Needle."

"Well, it's true!" Needle protested. "Dreams are much better than reality. Might as well sleep in whilst you can, right? I mean, in our dreams, we can imagine that we're free. Some might want to be with the humans that they were with before adoption. Others might want to be with new humans. Some, like me, want to be set free in the wild. In dreams, we can do all that. But then comes you, yowling like a badger, and you disturb everyone!" Through the wires in the cage, Needle reached her tail into Caspar's and flicked his ear affectionately.

Caspar smiled. "You describe me as a badger, eh? I'll show you who's the badger!" He pretended to pout, stalking away from his cage towards Dusty, the cat on the other side of _his _cage. Although he certainly acted mad, Needle knew that he was trying hard to contain his smile.

"Oh, and did you see that Pine's gone?" Needle whispered to him. Suddenly, his ears pricked as he whirled around back to face her.

"_What?_" he exclaimed. "Pine? What would they want with him? I mean, no offense to Pine, but he's practically the oldest cat here. Why would anyone want _him_?" Then, his eyes narrowed. "Are you joking?"

"No, I'm serious. Pine's gone. And I don't think that he was adopted."

Caspar's eyes darkened. "You're right." Shaking himself off, he whisked away again. "I'm going to talk to Dusty." Needle watched as the young, black tom prodded the brown tom with his paw before shouting, "Hey there Dusty!" to the sleeping cat. _Oh, Caspar. Even after the death of a cat who was really close to you, you manage to shake if off and continue with your life. _Although the tom was incredibly annoying, she couldn't help but admire his carefree attitude.

She gazed around the shelter, as she now knew it was called. Although that seemed like the wrong word. A _shelter_ was a place where you could find refuge. Safety. Protection. This place offered none of that. In the six months she had lived there, nothing had improved. Oh no. It had only gotten worse. The cages dirtier. The food more disgusting. The water dirtier. The bedding and litter were only changed every week now. There was nobody that worked hard to make their living conditions suitable enough. The only person who was tasked with that had left one day and never come back. And they didn't find anyone to replace that person. Because, of course, why would they? And, to rub nettles into the wound, Pine was gone. Her only friend here other than Caspar, who half of the time was bouncing around his cage excitably. Oblivious to the awfulness of this place. Pine had always wanted to change this, to make everything better for everyone. But now he wouldn't be able to do this. They had taken him. There was no question of where. They took him in the night, and he was probably dead by now. What was about to happen to her in that nightmare had happened to him, in reality. His last moments were spent in torture. Which made the gray tabby wonder—when they killed the cats, did they do it quickly and painlessly, or slowly? Did they torture them, or at least have _some _kind of morality, and let them die without suffering?

She hoped she'd never find out.

— — —

The calico, Pine's replacement, woke up at midday. Or, at least what Needle thought was midday. Her cage was stationed at the window, so she had some kind of visibility of the outside world. Not much, as the window was barely the size of her face, but more than most others. Although maybe that wasn't such a good thing.

"Hello," the new cat mewed when she spotted Needle. Her voice was calm and soothing, like bubbling water.

"H-hello," she mewed. _Fox-dung! Why do I always have to sound so awkward when I meet new cats? _"Who are you?"

She smiled. "My name, you mean? In that case, I'm Theia. Or Sparkfrost, if you wish. If you mean my origins, then I was a kittypet for a moon or two before the Twolegs dumped me here. Last sunset."

Needle pondered this answer. She thought that she had known all the strange terminology of these cats, but clearly not. "Sorry, I don't understand everything you said. What do you mean when you say _moons_?"

"You'll know it as a month, I presume. We measure the moon's cycle, and every time the moon becomes full again, we call that a moon."

"And… _Twolegs_?

"The creatures who run this place. They walk on two legs, that's how we got their names."

The gray tabby gave off a growl of frustration. "I should have guessed that one." Forcing herself to stay calm. She mewed her final question more quietly. "And… kittypet?"

"Housecat. Pet. The Clans' term for them." Noticing her companion's confusion, she slapped her multicolored tail across her face, giving a loud sigh of exasperation. "I'm really sorry. I keep saying things the way I'm used to them, the Clan's ways…" She drifted off.

"Could you tell me more about these Clans?" she questioned politely.

"Well," she took a deep breath, "there were five groups of cats in the forest. Until a moon ago, I was part of one. The one called SkyClan. The other four are ThunderClan, ShadowClan, WindClan and RiverClan. We live in the forest, and the territory there's _great_ for all the Clans. Tall trees for us, leafy undergrowth for ThunderClan, open moorland for WindClan, pine forests for ShadowClan, and RiverClan… well, _River_Clan had the _river_." She shuddered. "I couldn't bear to be a RiverClan cat. All that water."

Theia paused for a moment, grief swelling up in her green gaze. She shook her head. "It was terrible. Twolegs came along. Destroyed our land. Destroyed _us_. And the worst part was that the other Clans didn't bother to raise a paw in our defense. Some—no, _most_—thought that it would be _for the best_ if we left." The once-soothing tone was gone. The hatred in the calico's voice felt like being plunged into ice. "We had to leave the forest. Most of my Clanmates planned on moving to another place. I was going with them, but I got trapped when we were scavenging in the Twolegplace—this place—for food. The Twolegs that I lived with were harmless, and… I suppose a bit kind, but I'm a wild cat." She finished, and glanced at Needle, her voice softer and losing its edge. "What about you? Where did you come from?"

The smoky gray tabby struggled back an exclamation of surprise. Here, in the shelter, everyone had a story, but not many shared theirs. Needle was one of those. No cat, even Caspar nor Pine, had ever known about her beginnings. "I don't know my family. Or anything. I remember playing around with some other cats, then complete blackness. I lost all my other memories, and I woke up with my leg and tail like this." She gestured to her leg and tail. "Something bad had happened, though. I could tell be that and the humans' faces."

"I'm sorry. I was separated from my family, too. My sister—her name was Frondflash—was also separated. She was expecting kits. I only hope that they're okay."

_That sounds awful. I would hate to be on my own, especially if I was expecting kits. And those poor kits, too…If _anyone_ should feel miserable about their living conditions, it's those kits._

* * *

**And there you go! Hope you enjoyed the first chapter! Constructive reviews are always welcome! I'll try to update next week, once again I'm terribly sorry about this!**

**Signing out**

**-Dragon**


End file.
